


Attention Seeking Angel

by Dusty



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Dom Crowley (Good Omens), Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Naughty Aziraphale (Good Omens), Naughty angel, Pouting, Snake Crowley, Spanking, Sub Aziraphale (Good Omens), Subby little fuck, mild spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:34:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23107063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty/pseuds/Dusty
Summary: Crowley has been hibernating due to cold weather, curled up as a snek, in his angel's lap. But Crowley awakes to find his angel got bored...
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 151





	Attention Seeking Angel

**Author's Note:**

> So sorry to disappear for so long! Here's a little something!

Aziraphale had been bored out of his mind. It had been weeks since Crowley told him he just needed to curl up for a snooze, and since then, he'd had a small snake in his lap. 

It was frustrating at first. This wasn't exactly how he envisioned spending time with Crowley, despite the demon's declaration of hatred for winter time. However, watching the sweet little noodle peacefully slumber on his lap, Aziraphale had had an idea.

Crowley had bought him one of those clever new phones for Christmas. He had no interest in it, until he discovered the camera. A very patient customer had explained instagram to him and shown him how to upload images online for your business, and Aziraphale and very much enjoyed that tutorial, and took delight in posting unscheduled closures with a photo of his ‘closed’ sign. Yes. That’s how you run a business on Instagram.

But in the three weeks that Crowley had been asleep, Aziraphale had an idea for another account, after seeing various accounts of cats and dogs and humans all looking cute. He couldn’t remember how to set up a new account, so he miracled it, and smirked at the sleeping noodle. 

The angel had taken 946 photos of the little snake, in a variety of hats. A top hat, a cowboy hat, a tin hat, a queen’s guard hat, a sombrero, a nurse’s cap, a baseball cap, a bobble hat, and a bonnet. 

He chuckled to himself and scrolled through the ‘likes’, before feeling a stir in his lap. ‘Ah!’ he said happily, lifting the waking snake up and placing him on the sofa so he could transform comfortably.

The sleepy noodle grew into an awkward ensemble of angular black limbs until it was Crowley. 

‘Hi angel.’

‘Hello, my dear. Good sleep?’

‘Strangest dream,’ said Crowley as he stretched. ‘I was in a photo shoot that I didn’t want to be in.’

Crowley blinked at his friend in some confusion. Aziraphale looked guilty as hell

‘Angel, what did you do?’

‘Nothing,’ said Aziraphale, trying not to look at his phone. 

‘Oh really?’ Crowley took that opportunity to dive into the phone, in the flash, demonic way he sometimes did.

‘Oh dear,’ said Aziraphale. He wasn’t quite sure if all the images were up there, but it was sure that he probably should have asked.

Crowley poured back out of the phone and appeared in the room.

‘Soho Boop Noodle?’ he said, with an eerie calm, referring to the instagram account Aziraphale had miracled up.

‘Well, we are in Soho, and you…’

‘I’m a demon.’

‘You were a curled up snake! For three weeks!’ squeaked Aziraphale.

Crowley gave him a dark look. ‘Angel,’ he began, his voice somewhat low. ‘You put me in a bonnet.’

‘And you looked adorable,’ said Aziraphale brightly. ‘It got over 800 likes.’

Crowley made for him and Aziraphale scampered of the sofa and made a bee-line for the kitchen, but a demon who’s been resting for a whole three weeks is a lot quicker than an angel who’s been anxious and sneaky for three weeks. The angel therefore found himself caught and being ushered back to towards the couch. Crowley nuzzled his neck and swatted his bottom (Aziraphale squawked) at as he sat them both down.

Crowley sat and scrolled through more images, his arm around his angel to keep him in place in case it transpired he would need another swat. The demon scowled at each image.

‘I want a fireman one,’ he said finally.

‘Oh I didn’t think of that.’

‘You could have asked,’ said Crowley steadily, placing the phone down and fixing the angel with a glare. 

‘Sorry,’ said Aziraphale sheepishly. ‘I got bored.’

‘I told you I needed a good few weeks’ sleep. I don’t do February. No one in their right mind does February.’

'It's March,' said Aziraphale petulantly.

'I was giving it a wide berth!' Crowley glared at his angel.

‘Are you very cross? I can delete it?’

‘That’s not the point, angel,’ Crowley scolded gently. ‘Firstly, once it’s on the internet, it’s there forever, as someone will have backed it up or made copies or whatever. Secondly, it’s not like people will know it’s me, is it?’

‘Well there you go then!’ said Aziraphale happily.

‘No I don’t!’ said Crowley. ‘That’s still me. You shouldn’t have uploaded them.’

‘Sorry.’

‘I’ve been asleep far longer than that before.’

‘I remember.’

‘Well you didn’t do that in the 19th century, did you?’

A little attitude crept into the angel. ‘How do you know?’ he said slyly.

‘Well they didn’t have instagram, or you know, actual cameras.’

Aziraphale smirked, far too evilly for Crowley’s liking. ‘They did actually. Tremendous fun. You wouldn’t have known, because you were sleep-sulking.’

‘I wasn’t sleep-sulking!’ argued Crowley. ‘And I got up, at least once.’

‘Ah yes, for a wee wee.’

Crowley sat forward and simmered threateningly at his now bolshy angel. ‘Were you watching me?’

‘I’m an angel,’ said Aziraphale, almost wishing he had long hair so he could flick it over his shoulder like a diva. ‘I’m supposed to watch over… people.’

‘Aziraphale,’ said Crowley in a low rumble, which made the angel wonder if this was a good idea. ‘If I find out there’s a photo of me sleeping in bonnets…’

‘Oh don’t be ridiculous!’ said Aziraphale, patting the demon’s knee. ‘Cameras were invented but it’s not like you could just buy them! No no. It was still very much the days of live interaction.’

‘Oh good,’ said Crowley, sitting back with relief, until his face settled into a frown. ‘LIVE WHAT?’

Aziraphale flinched, but kept his nerve. ‘Well you know how it was. Entertainment was in person. It had to be.’ His breathing turned a little shallow. He could feel the heat coming off the demon, which he was enjoying. ‘After all, you looked so beautiful and peaceful. And the Victorians loved their attractions.’

‘Angel, be very careful because you’re about to be in big, big trouble.’

‘Oh I know,’ said Aziraphale, biting his lip. ‘It was ever so naughty of me and you’ve every right to be cross, but there was no other attraction like the _Mysterious Sleeping Beauty of Soho_. Tickets sold like hot cakes.’ He smirked, his blue eyes dancing. He was enjoying himself very much.

Crowley’s yellow eyes narrowed. He pursed his lips. ‘So either you are telling the truth, and in big trouble, or you are lying and teasing me, and in big trouble.’

‘Oh dear oh dear,’ said Aziraphale coyly. ‘Looks like I’m in big trouble.’ He actually fluttered his eyelashes, at which point Crowley launched at him and pinned him down on the sofa. 

‘Oh, dearest, _please_ ,’ said Aziraphale as he tried to wiggle away from the angered demon, but he was simply flipped over onto his front. A swat landed on his behind.

‘Naughty angel!’ scolded Crowley, delivering a volley of smacks over the seat of his trousers.

‘Ouch! Ah! Oh! Ow! Crowley! Ouch! No! Sorry! Ah! Uh! Ow!’ yelped Aziraphale on each impact. He squirmed, no, _writhed_ beneath the demon’s ministrations. ‘Yee-ouch! Ah! Oof! Oh! Ow! Oh Crowley! Sorry! Sorry! SORRY! Ouch!’

Crowley stopped smacking the round bottom, which had heated up considerably through the material, and scooped up his wriggling angel, turning him back over. He was met with a pink face, tousled hair, and a devastating pout. ‘I suppose,’ said the demon. ‘You are not to be trusted to keep out of mischief whilst I am sleeping.’

Aziraphale scowled. ‘Can’t you just sleep for a more usual amount of time? I was alone.’

Crowley pouted back at his angel. ‘Oh poor baby,’ he cooed, meeting the pouting lips of the angel with his own and giving him a good kiss. The blue eyes shone. 

‘You were never alone, angel,’ said Crowley. ‘I woke up plenty of times. I knew you were misbehaving. I watched you break your cocoa rule.’

‘I didn’t!’

‘Angel…’ warned Crowley.

‘Well, only once. It was a very cold night.’

‘Aziraphale, you’ve been having a _minimum_ of _two_ cups of cocoa every night for weeks. So much for your _just the one_ rule _._ ’

‘Oh dear,’ said Aziraphale, still lying on his back and looking up at his demon. ‘I am a naughty angel, aren’t I?’

Crowley smirked and cuddled up to the incorrigible cherub. He kissed him again. ‘I wouldn’t have you any other way, angel,’ he said dreamily. ‘My cheeky little hedonist.’ 

‘So I’m forgiven?’

‘No.’

‘But you spanked me!’

‘Oh angel. Did you think that was it? I’m afraid that was just the allegro.’

‘Crowley?’ 

Crowley kissed him on the cheek. ‘This little chat - this is the adagio.’ 

Aziraphale started to understand. ‘So we’re about to have a... scherzo?’

‘Mmm hmm,’ confirmed Crowley pleasantly, sticking a bony finger through a belt loop. ‘A bit like the allegro but a different rhythm, and definitely not with your trousers on.’

‘ _Another_ spanking?’

‘That’s right. On your bare, angelic bottom.’

Aziraphale pouted dramatically.

‘Oh, there there, angel. You’re going to be good for me. And then we move on to the fourth and final movement. The rollicking finale, with a proverbial bang.’

Aziraphale’s widened. ‘Oh,’ he said, with a blush and wiggle. ‘ _Oh._ ’

‘Just to make up for lost time. Sleeping beauty’s got some catching up to do.’

They chuckled together, enjoying a long, sensual kiss, until the angel broke it off. ‘Perhaps if we’re short of time we should just skip the third movement and go straight to the fourth?’ he asked demurely. 

This resulted in a glare, the miraculously rapid removal of trousers, and the positioning of the angel over the demon’s thighs with a white, wobbling bottom ready to receive.

The third movement began, a ticking off punctuated by _a lot_ of smacks, as Crowley’s firm hand came down again and again until his angel’s lily, obstinate posterior was littered with red handprints. 

As for the fourth movement, the angel relaxed into adoring submission, allowing his clever demon to make him feel beautiful, and they both lost track of time. 


End file.
